


Pull Through the Pain

by Vivianwjw123



Category: Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: Drift is highly concerned dad, Energon, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Give this fic a chance, I got the traps from Saw, Jetstorm and Slipstream go through hell, Mild Gore, My first Multi-chapter fic, My oc is Frigidspark, but it will get better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-01-30 09:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12650985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivianwjw123/pseuds/Vivianwjw123
Summary: Jetstorm and Slipstream go on a patrol, but they get captured. A decepticon with no conscience puts them through hell. Back at the scrapyard, Drift is freaking out over his missing mini-cons, who May as well be dead for all he knows.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multi-chapter fic. This idea has been floating around my head, so here it is. I made an OC because I don't think any Decepticon would be so cruel. I don't know why I enjoy watching my favourite characters suffer.  
> There will be at least 5 chapters

Jetstorm and Slipstream were excited for their patrol. They've gone on patrols by themselves before, but it was still exciting. The forest was dark and quiet, except for the moonlight streaming through the leaves and the occasional rustling in the leaves.  
"The forest is so peaceful," sighed Jetstorm, enjoying the soothing quietness of their surroundings.  
"I agree, it seems like a completely different location," said Slipstream, "but we must remain alert, for who knows what could be lurking in the darkness," Jetstorm nodded, and they walked in silence, nunchucks and naginata in hand. But none of them were prepared. None of them heard or saw the con watching them in shadows. None of them received any warning when subsonics kicked in and their audio sensors felt like they were being shredded. None of them knew what was happening when their visions faded to black.

Morning arrived, but there was still no sign of the two mini-cons that went out on patrol. Drift was getting worried.  
"Bumblebee, have you seen my students?" Drift asked.  
"No, they're still not back yet?" Bumblebee sounded concerned. It was well past the time they should've been back. _No reason to worry, they may merely have slept with Sideswipe,_ Drift tried to beat down his rising worry. He found Sideswipe practising his swordplay on some old scraps of plastic from the scrapyard.  
"Oh hey Drift, I was just gonna come look for you," greeted Sideswipe. _Oh, Primus no._  
"Why did you want me?"  Drift asked.  
"Oh, I wanted to hang out with Jetstorm and Slipstream. We were going to watch a new movie Russell found lying around in the scrapyard," Drift froze. This was bad, really, really bad.  
"Hey Drift, you okay?" Sideswipe waved his servo in front of him, "You spaced out for a bit there."  
"It's just...I haven't seen my mini-cons since I deployed them last night," Drift was starting to panic now.  
"What?! Have you tried to comm them?" Sideswipe's optics were wide with surprise.  
"Yes, I received no response," Drift tried to breathe evenly.  
"Well then what the frag are you waiting for? We gotta tell the rest of the team!" The two of them ran to the command center, calling for their other teammates.  
"What's up?" Strongarm arrived with a questioning look on her faceplate.  
"Do we need to punch anythin'?" Grimlock arrived excitedly waiting for news.  
"Jetstorm and Slipstream are missing. I received no response on the comm line, and I am growing concerned," Drift said. There was a collective gasp.  
"Well, what should we do!?" Said Grimlock.  
"I'll try to contact them through the command center," said Fixit, his digits flying across the holographic keyboard. There was nothing but static.  
"Their comm lines are jammed!" Said Fixit.  
"Wait, I hear someone coming on!" Gasped Strongarm. They started to hear a voice through the static.  
"Hello Autobots, I am currently in custody of two red and black mini-cons, do they perhaps belong to you?" A cold, emotionless femme's voice came on, wasting no time to speak.  
"What did you do to them? If any harm comes to them, I swear to Primus I will-!" Drift began.  
"Calm yourself. They will be returned to you at dawn the next day.  Whether it is alive or in scrap is up to them," the femme explained calmly. Drift balled his fists.  
"And please refrain from trying to find me before the allotted time. You will not find me, and your mini-cons will be returned to you at dawn. As. Scrap. Metal." The femme dropped the comm link, leaving the hissing sound of static on the comms. There was nothing but silence for a full five kliks. Then Bumblebee broke the silence.  
"Fixit, run a voice scan on this con. I want to know who she is, and any other intell we should know,"  
"Right away sir!" Fixit scrambled to comply, "According to the voice scan, this is a Deception named Frigidspark. She suffers from sociopathy, and takes enjoyment in testing how far a bot will go for a teammate, though her methods are unknown. Her victims of choice are mini-cons, Autobot _and_ Decepticon. Her rap sheet includes kidnapping of multiple minors, murder, and illegal experimentation. Frigidspark never backs up from a promise, so if she says she'll do something, it will be done, no matter how much she loses. She has many names in the criminal world, names like Mini-con Murderer, Sparkless Scientist, and...and- oh, I don't want to continue!" Fixit whimpered, covering his optics.  
"What are the mortality rates?" Asked Bumblebee.  
"73% of the mini-cons d-don't return," gasped Fixit. Drift felt his spark run cold.  
"We must do something," he growled, refusing to let some sparkless **_automaton_** hurt his mini-cons.  
"Something like what?" Asked Sideswipe, "You heard what Fixit said, she makes good on her promises. If we don't go after her, then Jetstorm and Slipstream might actually have a chance."  
"Then what do you propose to do?! Stand around and do _**nothing?!**_ " Drift practically yelled at Sideswipe.  
"Drift, calm down. I don't like this either, but Sideswipe's right," Bumblebee put a servo on his shoulder, "If we go after her, she might actually offline them, and none us want that," Drift growled, but he knew they were right.  
"Very well, I shall go meditate," said Drift, his voice gaining an icy tone, hiding his inner panic. But he knew this wasn't a situation that he could just meditate away.

Jetstorm woke up first.  
"Oh, my aching processor," he mumbled. Then his optics rebooted and came online. First he noticed Slipstream, unconscious and lying beside him. Then he realized they weren't in the scrapyard, they were in a prison cell, plasma bars and everything.  
"Slipstream? Slipstream, are you okay?" Jetstorm gently shook his teammate. With a pained groan, Slipstream's optics flickered open.  
"Where...?" Slipstream sat up, looking around.  
"Does your head hurt? Can you move?" Jetstorm wanted to make sure that his comrade was okay.  
"Jetstorm, it's okay. Besides this...splitting headache, I'm fine. But where are we?" Slipstream looked out through the bars of their cell, when Jetstorm gasped.  
"Slipstream, our weapons!" He felt his back. Where there would be the handle of his trusty naginata was empty space. Their weapons were gone.  
"This is really, really bad," muttered Jetstorm.  
"Tell me something that I don't know," replied Slipstream. Just then, there was a burst of static in their comms.  
"Hello mini-cons," It was a femme.  
"Who are you? Why did you bring us here?" Hissed Jetstorm.  
"Please calm down. You act very much like your deployer," Jetstorm grit his dental plates, but stopped talking.  
"You are here because I want to see how far you will go for one another. You will go through a series of tests to determine the result. There are three outcomes to every test. One dies, one dies and one gets injured, and both survive with injuries. You will be returned home at dawn the next day. Your first test begins in 1 minute," With a fizzle, the femme left the comm line. Jetstorm and Slipstream looked at each other in horror.  
"One d-dies?" Stuttered Slipstream.  
"Master Drift must be extremely worried," vented Jetstorm.  
"I hope the first test isn't too-aaagh!" The same subsonic pitch that knocked them out in the forest was being used again. Unconsciousness enveloped them both.


	2. Test #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mini-cons' first test. This was inspired by the Circle of Silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chappie #2   
> There will be at least 5 chapters.

Slipstream's optics fluttered open. He groaned, and instantly regretted it. His throat absolutely _throbbed_. He couldn't move, something was restraining him. Slipstream blinked, and his surroundings came into focus. He had to swallow a scream, which his throat protested to. He was strapped into to a metal chair with chains, and his head was strapped to the back, so he couldn't look down. Around him was a ring of metal about his height, and he could see three sharpened metal rods, all pointing at his exposed neck. _I bet all the shanix that I own that there's a rod behind me too,_ thought Slipstream. He was also gagged, and he felt a string running down his throat. _Now how did that get there?_ He thought groggily. A pained groan caught his attention, so he shifted his optics to the source of the sound. It was Jetstorm.

Jetstorm pushed himself up. He was really starting to hate this femme. He looked around, scanning his surroundings. Where's Slipstream? The realization hit him. Slipstream wasn't beside him. Panic stabbed at his spark as he realized where Slipstream was.   
"Slipstream!" He started to run towards him, when all of a sudden sharp, steel spikes jutted out of the ground. Jetstorm barely had time to jump back. What was this?  
"Hello mini-cons, welcome to your first test, I realize I have not introduced myself. My name is Frigidspark, and I will be monitoring your progress today,"  
"You! Let Slipstream go!" Yelled Jetstorm. All he got in return was a cold chuckle.  
"Whether your acquaintance is freed or not depends on what you do. Completing this task is quite simple, all you need to do is cross the distance between you and him, and free him from the chains before the time limit is up. The key has been surgically implanted into his voicebox, and the string attached to it is attached to his gag," Frigidspark started to explain the rules,  
"But how do I cross these spikes?" Said Jetstorm, itching to go and save his friend.  
"I said it would be simple, not easy. Oh, and one more thing, you see those metal rods pointing at his throat? For every sound you make higher than 30 decibels, they will move closer. If you do not free him before the time limit, or make too much noise, his neck will be crushed and pierced by the pipes,"   
"Good luck. You have 3 minutes. Go," With that, her voice disappeared, leaving Jetstorm to figure out what to do. He couldn't see any way to go around the spikes, and definitely no way to go above it. _Time is wasting, ooh what do I do?!_ Jetstorm panicked, _wait...no. Do I have to-?!_ He finally realized what the Decepticon femme ment when she said they would be badly injured. Finally realizing what he had to do, he took a deep breath, and stepped forward, onto the spikes. Jetstorm couldn't hold back a loud hiss of pain as the spikes sank deep into his pedes. With a loud _SHHUNK_ the metal rods endangering Slipstream moved forward. _Keep going,_ he repeated in his head, _just one step after the other._ He took another step, gritting his dental plates in pain to prevent making too much more sound. Step after step, he got closer to the center of the room. The spikes were covered with his energon. Jetstorm stumbled into the center, the bottoms of his pedes stained a bright blue. His pedes hurt like the Pit, but the seconds were slipping away, and every second lost was one second closer to Slipstream's death. Jetstorm limped to the chair Slipstream was tied to. _I have to pull the key out, but I can't do it without harming Slipstream._ Jetstorm started to remove the gag. Slipstream choked and wheezed, shaking his head and trying to pull away. The rods moved forward again.  
"I don't know what to do," Jetstorm whispered, trying not to pass the sound limit. Slipstream looked at Jetstorm.   
"Just pull it out. Please do it quick," Slipstream rasped, just barely audible. He squeezed his optics shut and opened his mouth. Jetstorm took hold of the string.  
"I'm sorry," He mumbled, and pulled on the string as hard as he could. The key came out after a little resistance, tearing through the delicate mechanisms of his voicebox. It was dripping with energon, and a small drop of it dripped down Slipstream's mouthplates. Strangely though, he didn't make a sound.  
"Just hold on Slipstream," Jetstorm encouraged him. He unlocked the locks on his bindings as fast as his digits would allow him. With a click, the locks fell to the ground, and Slipstream slid out of the chair. The second his pedes touched the ground, the spikes in the floor surrounding them retracted, and the metal rods slid back into place.  
"Congratulations, you have passed your first test. You have finished with 52 seconds remaining," Frigidspark spoke over the comms, as emotionless as always.  
"Your next test is in 10 minutes," she continued "You may take this time to relax," Jetstorm scoffed once she was off the line.  
"'Relax' she says. Well that may be difficult in this Pit," he vented as he looked to Slipstream.  
"Are you alright? You didn't make any sound when I...pulled the key out," Slipstream looked to Jetstorm and made some hand gestures. Jetstorm looked at them.  
"Is that...Cybertronian hand language?" Slipstream nodded.  
" _I wanted to thank you for freeing me. As you can see, I cannot speak. How are your pedes?_ " Slipstream gave Jetstorm a concerned look.  
"I-I'm okay! My pedes can't hurt more than your voicebox," Jetstorm waved off the injury, "I wonder how the team is without us," he wondered aloud, changing the subject.  
" _We must return to them,_ " signed Slipstream, going along with it. They continued to chatter and laugh to try and lift their spirits in this dark space.They both promised to themselves that they would return to the scrapyard, be it near death or head held high.


	3. Test #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one was inspired by the famous Reverse Beartrap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter!

Sideswipe was getting worried about Drift. He was acting cold and quiet. Well, more than usual, anyway. _Well I wouldn't blame him, with the mini-cons missing and everything,_ thought Sideswipe. The whole team was tense since they received the message. _I hope they're doing okay,_   Sideswipe wished there was something, anything they could do. He sighed and decided to take his anger out on some scrap. As he looked for somewhere vent his frustration, he heard someone already doing that. Sideswipe rounded the corner and saw Drift, wakizashi in hand, slicing through hunks of metal like butter. He sliced and slashed at them, and when he stopped, the metal fell to the ground in scraps smaller Sideswipe's fist.  
"Wow, you're good with that," said Sideswipe looking at the little metal pieces littering the ground. Drift whipped around in surprise.  
"Oh, it's you. I did not hear you approachIng," Drift looked at the ground.  
"You holdin' up okay? I mean, this can't be easy for you," Sideswipe tried to comfort Drift.  
"I don't know where my students are, I may possibly never see them alive again, and I can't do anything to help. How do you think I am 'holding up'?" Drift replied. _Okay, so not well,_ Sideswipe mentally winced. He must have let it show on his face, because Drift seemed to regret his choice of words.  
"Apologies Sideswipe. It is just that I wish I could do something to help them. We are just sitting here while Primus-knows-what is happening to them," Drift sheathed his sword and sighed. Sideswipe put a servo on his shoulder.  
"Why don't we get some medical supplies ready. That way, if Jetstorm and Slipstream come back hurt, we'll be ready," Drift nodded and followed him to the command center.

When Jetstorm woke up, there was less of a headache. _Well at least I am getting used to it_ , he thought, his fogged processor slowly rebooting. He felt like he got stabbed between the shoulder blades. Jetstorm tried to call out for Slipstream, but there was something in his mouth. There was a large metal helmet on his head, with metal rods propping his top and bottom jaws slightly apart. He couldn't move apart from shifting his optics, and even that was difficult with a big, bulky metal (most-likely) deathtrap obscuring the edges of his vision. _It seems the roles have been reversed,_ Jetstorm thought bitterly. He could taste the rust and dried energon crusting the rods, and he had to suppress the urge to retch. He prayed that he would not fall victim to whatever this thing was.

Slipstream could see Jetstorm in that strange helmet at the end of the room. There were strange boxes with two holes on one side placed at set intervals across it. His voicebox still burned from their previous ordeal. _I cannot even speak Cybertronian. Wretched Decepticon,_ Slipstream thought to himself. He shook his head. _No time for my own lament, I must free Jetstorm,_ he reprimanded himself. Then there was a loud burst of static over the comms.  
"Hello again. I see you have awoken. Welcome to Test #2," that smooth, horribly familiar voice was there again. Slipstream glared at the speaker on the wall. If he could speak, he would spit every insult he knew at that disgusting excuse for a Cybertronian.  
"Your second task is to get to your comrade and free him from the helmet. It is something I took inspiration some things I found on earth. There are metal rods inserted in his oral cavity right now. If you fail to free him in time, it will-" Frigidspark stopped abruptly. _It will what?_ wondered Slipstream. Then she let out a cold chuckle.  
"You know what? Why don't I stop wasting time? You can find out for yourself," Slipstream clenched his fists.  
"Though I still must tell you how to free him, or it wouldn't be fair. You see those boxes? Each one contains a key. You'll need them. Oh, and before I forget, this time the key to free your partner is implanted in his T-cog. You have 5 minutes. Go," with that, large walls rose from the ground splitting the room into segments, each one having a box. Slipstream raced over to one. There was no way to get inside but the two holes. _It is too dark to see inside them, but I need that key,_ Slipstream pushed aside his suspicions and shoved his servos into the box. The box was rigged. Blades sliced through his digits, and pain shredded his servos. Slipstream screamed. It wasn't a normal scream. It was a horrible, static-laced screech. He probably felt worse than he sounded though, as it felt like his voicebox was being ripped apart apart all over again. He pulled his hands out of the box. There were giant, leaking gashes all over them. Slipstream's breaths came in sharp, painful gasps. Then he swallowed his pain and, _slowly_ this time, put his servos back into the box. He felt around and could feel the cold metal ring of the key. Sharp knives prodded at his servos, not piercing his digits, but uncomfortable nonetheless. Slipstream pulled the key out, sighing in relief. The keyhole was outlined and easy to spot. With a click, the key slid in, and the wall slowly slipped back underground. _One down, Primus-knows-how-many left_ , Slipstream glanced at his servos, then walked to the next box.

_I'm not going to die, Slipstream's not going to die, nobody's going to die_ Jetstorm desperately chanted in his head. He felt sick, he was uncomfortable, and he had no idea how Slipstream was. Jetstorm only heard that abhorrent **scream**. Jetstorm didn't even know how much time he had left, or what this death-trap would do, or if Slipstream was okay or if he was ever going to _get out of here alive or-!_ A loud grating noise interrupted Jetstorm's racing thoughts. The wall in front of him was lowering, lowering, until it revealed Slipstream. _He's okay! He isn't hurt-!_ Jetstorm's happy train of thought crashed when he saw Slipstream's servos.  
"Slifshteam, aah you awight?" He tried to mumble through the thick metal rods in his mouth.  
" _Look who is talking_ " signed Slipstream, giving him a weak smile. The signing was obviously hurting him, and Jetstorm didn't want to waste time worrying anymore.  
"Geh th key. Beh cawfol," Jetstorm managed to say. With a quick nod, Slipstream slipped behind him and found a metal handle dangling from a messy welding seam on his back. Wrapping his hands around the handle, he braced himself and pulled as hard as his injured digits would allow. The key came out attached to a chunk of metal.  
"GYAAAAH!!!" Jetstorm screamed. Energon welled out of the hole in his back. With nary a fumble, Slipstream unlocked the helmet and threw it to the side. Just in time too, the metal rods that were in Jetstorm's mouth snapped open, splitting the helmet open. Jetstorm had to swallow the fluids rising in his throat.  
"If that helmet was still on me..." Jetstorm began shakily.  
" _It would have split your cranium in half_ ," Slipstream finished grimly. He sighed and continued to free Jetstorm from the rest of his bindings.  
"Congratulations, you freed him. I hope your servos don't hurt too bad," Frigidspark spoke. Jetstorm stiffened. her fault  
"You slag-sparked coward!" Jetstorm shrieked, "Show yourself and face us! Or do you want to weaken us so it is an easy fight?"  It was evident that Jetstorm wanted nothing more than to watch her get scrapped.  
"You are quite a feisty little scraplet, aren't you," Frigidspark chided, "Well, no worries. You're almost done here. Time to get you to your next challenge," Jetstorm and Slipstream braced themselves for another assault on their audio receptors.  
But it never came.  
"You act as if I'm going to do something. Well I don't blame you. This time, I'll be generous. You can walk there yourself," said Frigidspark. A mechanical whirring sound rumbled within the room. The wall behind the chair Jetstorm was tied to slid open, revealing a long, dark hallway. "Take your time, I'll explain the rules when you are ready."


	4. Entertainment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a test, Frigidspark is just cruel and sadistic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm putting them through so much pain.

" _How is your back?_ " Slipstream signed, the wounds on his servos no longer dripping energon.  
"It hurts when I move too much, but I think I'll be fine," Jetstorm reassured him, "How is your voice box? Does it still hurt?"   
" _Yes. Yes it does. Especially after that horrible noise I made back there,_ " Slipstream grimaced. Jetstorm shakily got to his feet.   
"We should start moving. We do not know how long Frigidspark will remain 'generous'," He started to walk forward, and stumbled. Thankfully, Slipstream got up fast enough to catch him.  
" _Be careful. You still have **holes** on the bottoms of your pedes. Take it easy,_ ," Slipstream carefully slipped under him, letting Jetstorm lean against him for support.  
"Thanks Slipstream," Jetstorm mumbled. Slipstream smiled in return. They began making their way to the hallway, but the moment their pedes passed an invisible line, the wall slammed shut behind them. All along the hallway, slots opened up, and turrets slid out.   
"Don't worry, this isn't a test. I just want to see if you can make it to the end," Frigidspark boredly sighed. "You need to make it to the end. These turrets only track stationary life-signals. Stopping for more than 3 seconds will give the turrets enough time to lock on your position and fire. Minimum speed requirement is 30 kilometers per hour. Start by passing the first turret. Good luck" She said with a small chuckle. The speaker went silent. For a second, Slipstream stared at it in disbelief. They, including Jetstorm, had to run, which he obviously couldn't, across the hallway. Jetstorm would have to _run_ , when he could barely even _walk_. Slipstream glanced at him and he caught his eye.  
"Let me try standing, I'll be fine," Jetstorm slowly pulled away. After swaying a little, he steadied himself and managed to walk a few steps. As soon as Jetstorm pulled away, Slipstream started to sign furiously.  
" _Disgusting. Absolutely Disgusting. This isn't even one of her quote-unquote 'tests'. Now she just wants to watch us suffer. I hope she burns in the deepest pit-_ ,"   
"Slipstream," Jetstorm looked him in the optics and carefully held his servos, "please do not let emotion cloud your judgement. If we are to prove her wrong, then we have to pull through this. We can insult her all we want back at the scrapyard. We _will_ get back," Jetstorm paused for a moment, then smirked.  
"Besides, letting my emotions cloud my judgement is my job," At that point, Slipstream had to smile, just a little bit.  
"Now that that is out of the way, how shall we proceed?" Jetstorm clapped, remembering the problem at hand.   
" _I may be able to carry you_ ," gestured Slipstream.   
"Are you sure? The hallway is long, and I do not want you to tire,"  
" _I'll be fine,_ " and with that, he motioned for Jetstorm to get on his back. With a vent, Jetstorm got on his back. Slipstream looked back with a questioning glance. _Are you ready?_  
"I'm ready," Jetstorm affirmed. He wrapped his arms around his neck and braced himself. Slipstream took off, moving as fast as he could across the hallway.

Back at the scrapyard, Drift counted the seconds that passed without his mini-cons. Last he checked it was 6 o' clock Earth time. Drift has never felt despair as crushing as this since Starscream kidnapped his mini-cons for leverage. _I should be out there, looking for them,_ he told himself yet again. He vented and rubbed his temples, or rather, where his temples would be if he was human. The rest of the team was making themselves busy around the scrapyard. Bumblebee and Fixit were scanning through hundreds of Alchemor files, hoping to find more intell on the deception that took his students. Strongarm and Sideswipe were having a heated sparring match, both blowing off steam that has built up over the course of the past few hours of not being able to do anything. Even Grimlock was agitated, punching scrap and claiming that he was practising in case he ever had to punch Frigidspark. Why did this happen? Everything was fine yesterday. How did it all go downhill?

Spark pounding, pedes thumping across the hallway floor, Slipstream ran. He ran faster than he knew he could. The turrets whirred as they tried to get a lock on his position, but like Frigidspark said, they couldn't lock on unless he was moving slower. He knew he couldn't run this fast for long. His oxygen intake valve was already starting to ache with the sharp breaths he was sucking in. _Where is the end?_ Slipstream strained to look for the exit.   
"You can do it Slipstream, you can do it," Jetstorm repeated it like a mantra. He tried to put himself in a position that wouldn't hinder him, but being the same size and weight as him made it hard. For a while it almost seemed like they had a chance of making it, but fate is a cruel, cruel mistress. A bit of the ground in front of them was raised, just enough so that they didn't notice it, but enough to send a bot flying if they tripped. Slipstream found that out the hard way. He felt his foot catch on the ledge, and before he knew it, he was skidding painfully across the floor. _No, oh no. Get up!_ Slipstream tried to pull himself up, his body painfully throbbing from what could only be described as a really bad floor burn.   
"Slipstream _MOVE_ ," Jetstorm voice pierced through the painful haze, and he rolled to the side, a plasma blast smashing into the floor beside him. They had to get going, pick up speed before more turrets could lock on. Soon the hallway was full of red beams of light. Jetstorm yelped as one grazed his plating, leaving a black smoking mark in it's place. Slipstream wasn't faring any better. They needed to move, but how?   
"Run! I'll be right behind you!" Jetstorm shouted. Slipstream gave him an angry look. Why would he ever just lea-  
"Oh for the love of-! Just come on!" Jetstorm grabbed his wrist and pulled, dragging him along as _he_ ran. 

It hurt.  
It hurt, but he couldn't afford to stop, lest he be blasted to scrap metal. Slipstream was silently protesting, knowing how much it hurt to just walk.   
"Just keep moving Slipstream, just keep moving," he growled. Pedes banging on the floor, he began to feel wetness underneath them. Hmm, his wounds must have opened up again. No matter. It can be dealt with later. Slipstream was still beside him. That is all that matters. Keep running. Jetstorm could see the exit. Keep running. Keep run-  
...  
Why did they stop? Jetstorm shook his head, and realized that they were out of the hallway. At that moment, all of his exhaustion and pain hit him, and he almost fell over.  
" _Are you alright?_ " Slipstream aaked, " _You moved unexplainably fast, despite your injuries,_ "   
"My legs feel like they have been forcibly removed from my chassis, but other than that, I'll live," Jetstorm groaned. His armor was littered with scorch marks. So was Slipstream's.   
" _Where are we?_ " Slipstream glanced around the room. It wasn't a big one, much smaller than the seemingly cavernous rooms they were in before. In the middle, there was a metal container. It was welded to the ground. Beside it, were two knives. The speakers came online.  
"Welcome, to your final test."


	5. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Battered, beaten, and bruised, but that isn't going to stop them.

Jetstorm swore his spark skipped a beat. The last test? They were so _close_ to freedom. They suffered right up until this point, now all that pain won't be for nothing.  
"I must warn you though, most never make it past this point," said Frigidspark thoughtfully, "though maybe you will make it. After all, you two have been phenomenal test subjects."  
"We do not care about how you feel or do not feel of us. Just tell us what to do so we may leave this place," Jetstorm scoffed.  
"My, you just seem feistier and feistier the more we go along! I was only saying you managed to impress me!" Her voice was laced with mock hurt. "Well, all jokes aside, this one may be the simplest in my arsenal. I just need you to fill that container to the brim with energon. Complete your task and I will let you go," She was gone. Jetstorm blinked. Okay, maybe that might be a problem. He looked to Slipstream. Slipstream looked like he wanted to strangle the deception. Well, nothing new there.  
" _We should just get this over with_ ," He breathed a soundless sigh, walked over to the container and picked up a knife. Jetstorm followed suit. Slipstream prepared to make a cut. A servo stopped him.  
"Not there. You need to make too deep a cut to bleed," Jetstorm mumbled. He guided his hand to a spot that was almost underneath his armor.  
"Here, the plating is thinner, and it doesn't hurt as much," Slipstream gave Jetstorm a concerned look. He put down his knife.  
" _How do you know this?_ " Jetstorm ignored him.  
" _Jetstorm - ?_ " Slipstream started to sign, only to have Jetstorm push his hands down.  
"Slipstream, now is quite literally the worst time to talk about this. I only want to make this less painful. So, like you suggested, can we just get over this?" Jetstorm was very clearly trying to drop the subject. So Slipstream dropped it. They went on to make long, thin cuts on their arms, and letting the energon drip into the container.

Frigidspark truly was impressed, and impressing her was no easy feat. These two mini-cons would quite literally _kill_ themselves for each other. Hesitation was nonexistent, and they demonstrated a wide array of emotional data. Now this was always the part that perplexed her. Why? She never understood why a mini-con would maim themselves just for another, and when they failed, they acted...broken. What was the point of rescuing the other one? Wouldn't they just hinder your performance with their injuries? Not to mention you would also injure yourself. As long as you yourself are not damaged, others did not matter...right? It frustrated her that she couldn't understand. Well, that's why she was experimenting. Frigidspark glimpsed through her security cameras. She'll find results eventually.

Slipstream's head reeled. He was dizzy and weak with energon loss. The container was almost full. At least, it looked like it. His vision was blurring. Maybe he could close his optics for a bit.  
"Slipstream. Keep your optics open," Jetstorm slurred. He looked up. Jetstorm looked just as bad as he was, if not, worse. His optics were as dull as Cybertron was when it was dead. His faceplates were unnaturally pale, and he looked like he could fall into a stasis any second. _Is that what I look like?_ Slipstream's hazy mind latched onto that one coherent thought. A small giggle escaped him.  
"What're you laughing about?"  
" _You look horrible_ ," signed Slipstream  
"You look no better," Jetstorm retorted. They both looked at their arms. Cuts covered every square inch of their arms. Their arms may as well have been bright blue to begin with.  
" _We do look terrible_ ," grimaced Slipstream. Jetstorm nodded, holding his arm up, letting a few drops of energon trickle into the container. All of a sudden, the rim glowed a bright blue. The energon Jetstorm and Slipstream worked so painfully to collect drained into grooves along the ground. The energon flowed until it reached a wall. It then flowed upwards, outlining what was clearly a door.  
"How many secret mechanical door-thingies does this crazy femme have?" Groaned Jetstorm. Then the door began to open. A blast of cool, fresh air buffeted their faces. The surroundings beyond the door was bathed in the light of sunrise.  
"Congratulations. You survived," Jetstorm and Slipstream whipped around. It was Frigidspark, in the mesh. She was a tall, slender bot. Her armor was black, with purple and blue highlights on her shoulder pads and face. Frigidspark an aura of utter apathy, but the biggest indication that she was one to be avoided was her optics. Dull, grey optics that glowed, yet they were void of any emotion. She had a data pad and seemed to be taking notes.  
" _ **You**_ ," Jetstorm snarled, "Take another step forward and I will-"  
"-attempt to attack me and fail because of obvious injuries? Yes, that does seem like the most likely scenario," Frigidspark snorted. Fury smoldered in his spark, but she was right. In the state they were in now, she could easily reduce them to scrap metal.  
"I only have one question left..." Frigidspark looked up from her data pad and locked eyes with the two of them. "Why did you rescue each other?"  
Jetstorm and Slipstream looked at each other.  
" _That's easy_ ,"  
"Its because we care,"  
Frigidspark vented and rubbed a spot between her eyes.  
"You see? This is always the part I don't get. You care? What does that _mean_? Is it something that forces you to act as you did? I mean, it sounds plausible. Why else would you willingly mutilate yourselves?"  
They blinked, confused.  
"Nothing forces us to help each other," Jetstorm says. Slipstream nods in agreement.  
"Care..." Frigidspark rolled the word around in her mouth. She scribbled down more notes.  
"Also, we answered. May we leave now?" He tiredly growls, "I do not want to answer more of your stupid questions."  
"Yes, yes you may. Shoo, I need to analyze the new data you provided in your time here," Frigidspark waves them away, her eyes sliding back to her data pad, and walks back into the shadows of what was now obviously her ship, as if they had just finished a formal conversation. Jetstorm shook his head and sighed.  
"C'mon Slipstream. Let's go. I don't want to be anywhere near this place."  
" _See if you can comm anyone,_ " suggested Slipstream. Jetstorm obliged, putting a finger to the side of his helmet.  
"Hello? Jetstorm to Command Center. Can anyone hear me?"

"Surely we can search now? It is dawn. They may be injured, we cannot just stay here!" said Drift, who didn't get any recharge due to the events of yesterday.  
"We don't know what Frigidspark considers 'dawn'. We might go out too early," Bumblebee answers, "but you're right Drift, we should do something." _But what?_  
Suddenly, the command center beeped with an incoming transmission.  
"Fixit-?"  
"Already on it sir!" He patched it through to the scrapyard.  
"Hello? _-kssshhhh-_ scrapyard _-kssshhhh-_ hear me?" The message was garbled and broken, but it was clear who was on the other side.  
"JETSTORM! What is your location? Are you injured. Is Slipstream with you?" Drift felt dizzy with relief. They were _alive_.  
"Thank the Primes," mumbled Sideswipe.  
"Master? _-kssshhhh-_ forest," Jetstorm tried to reply.  
"I've got their coordinates!" Chirped Fixit, sending them to Drift. In a flash he was gone, out of the scrapyard and racing towards his students' location.  
"Hey wai- aand he's gone," Bumblebee sighed.  
"Should we go after him?" Strongarm asked.  
"Nah," Bumblebee shook his head, "He'll be fine,"


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two of them are back and safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry, sorry for this taking so long! I promise I'm gonna get this done. I swear I'll see this fix through to the end! It's just that I have school, and real life, and I have a lot less time now. Thanks for waiting so long!

Jetstorm was leaning against Slipstream for support. Again.  
"Are you sure this is the right direction?" He whined, tired and hurting and unable to think straight. Slipstream nodded for what felt like the hundredth time. They were stumbling through the forest in a daze, spatters of blue trailing behind them.  
"Jetstorm?!" A voice echoed through the trees, instantly perking the two of their attentions. It was their Master Drift.  
"Master?" Jetstorm called out weakly, "We are over here!".  Soon they both could see a blurry orange silhouette.  
" Look Slipstream, we'll soon be home," Jetstorm smiled, blackness tugging at the edge of his vision. He felt himself slipping. Slipstream gave him a shake, trying to keep him awake, but to no avail. He was falling too.

Drift was relieved that they were alive, but any relief he had was immediately stifled when he saw them collapse.  
"Students?" As he got closer, he saw the extent of their injuries. Drift felt sick to his spark. Energon was pooling around their unconscious frames. Without another thought, Drift carefully scooped up Jetstorm and Slipstream, and began running as fast as he could without jostling them.  
"Bumblebee, get the medical supplies ready! I have Jetstorm and Slipstream, and they are in critical condition!" Drift yelled into the comm. His hands were getting slippery. They were bleeding so much. Why were they bleeding so much? What _happened_? There, the scrapyard gate! He punched in the security code and rushed in. The Sideswipe came up to meet him.  
"Drift you'r- _Oh Dear Primus what **happened** to them?_ " He croaked, looking at the excessive amounts of vital fluids dripping onto the ground.  
"Get them into stasis. Hurry!" Sideswipe took Jetstorm and the two of them headed for the command center.  
"Sir what- sweet Solus Prime!" Fixit shrieked at the sight of his two fellow mini-cons. Strongarm just stood there, her mouth open but no words spilling out. Grimlock just turned tail and ran, whimpering "No, I didn't see that. They're fine. I didn't see that." Once Jetstorm and Slipstream were put in stasis, everyone began talking.  
"What do we do?!"

"They aren't gonna die, are they?"

"No they are not!"

"Guys?"

"What happened to them?" 

"We don't have the proper supplies!"

"GUYS!" Everybody's attention snapped to Bumblebee. "Okay, this is really bad, but panicking is the worst thing to do right now. Fixit, are there any injuries you can repair as of right now?"  
"Uh, y-yes! Yes sir!" Fixit stammered, giving a quick salute.  
"Good, that's what I want you to do. Stabilize their condition," ordered Bumblebee, "As for everyone else... I honestly don't know, just keep eye out on things," he started to walk toward the command console.  
"What are you going to be doing?" Asked Strongarm.  
"Just going to make a call home."

 _That should be the last of them,_ thought Ratchet, stacking away datapads that contained files and forms of all sorts. He let out a long drawn-out sigh. _Finally, no more work._ Getting up from his chair, he stretched, and his joints cracked and popped along his back. Ratchet headed towards the back door to head home, but a quick sequence of beeps drew his attention. It was the command console. So he walked over to the console and patched it through.  
"Ratchet! Oh, thank the Primes!" It was Bumblebee.

"Bumblebee! What's wrong?" 

"Two of our teammates are injured, and they're injured bad..." 

 

He ended the call.

"OK, I called Ratchet, he should be able to repair Jetstorm and Slipstream," the team let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Sir, I have their medical reports,"  Fixit said, rolling over. "Jetstorm has a damaged T-cog, and holes in his pedes. Slipstream has a damaged voice-box and his servos have cuts all over them. Oh, and both of them have various burns and blaster marks on their plating." 

"Sounds like they went through a lot," grimaced Strongarm. Drift fought a wave of oncoming nausea. 

"Hey, at least they're here now. They can rest as long as they need to," said Sideswipe.

Soon, the rumble of an engine was heard overhead. There was a ripple of light in the sky, then that illusion gave away to a large, white and orange ship. A beam shot from the middle.

"Okay, I'm here. Who do I need to fix?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again if this was short. I swear I'm trying.


End file.
